


all hallows' eve

by seventhswan



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Big Brother Sans, Disabled Character, Ensemble Cast, Gen, Halloween, Non-Binary Frisk, Papyrus' quilting circle, Post-Pacifist Route, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5108525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhswan/pseuds/seventhswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“YOU SEE, FRISK,” Papyrus said, in the indulgent voice an elementary school teacher might use to explain something to a particularly adorable student, “UP HERE THEY HAVE SOMETHING CALLED A ‘HALLOWE’EN’. IT IS A DAY WHEN THE HUMANS ALL COME TOGETHER TO WORSHIP SKELETONS.”</p>
</blockquote><p>The monsters learn about ancient human customs including pumpkin goop, indecipherable costumes, apple-bobbing, and greatest of all, the Halloween party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all hallows' eve

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place assuming a true pacifist run has been completed. 
> 
> Frisk in this story is physically mute but not deaf/HOH (I imagine due to permanent nerve damage to the larynx/vocal folds during childhood surgery or something similar) so uses ASL. Sans and Toriel are fluent in ASL here, and the others vary in competence level. Sans often uses sign to speak with Frisk even though technically this is not necessary, as a kind of bonding/”secret code” thing between them. ASL sections are in **bold**. 
> 
> If there are any issues with how I’ve written Frisk in this situation, please don’t hesitate to let me know!

A lot of new traditions sprang up for Frisk after the monsters moved to the surface – hot chocolate after school on Mondays with Toriel, sleeping over at Sans and Papyrus’ house on Saturdays, the horse riding lessons with Undyne and Alphys (Undyne looking like some Greek warrior goddess, Alphys on the oldest, slowest horse in the yard and just trying not to spew) – but Frisk’s favorite was, weirdly, the weekly shop at Target. 

Somehow, when nobody was looking, it had become an institution, growing to the point where transporting everyone required both the blue car that Sans drove far too fast, and Undyne’s old banger Betsey.

They went at the same time every week, and the greeters always recognised them and said hello, and one of them (an improbably sunny teenager named Ryan) had even learned the sign for Frisk’s name – so Papyrus’ confusion the first time they went into the store in October was maybe slightly warranted.

“WOWIE!” he said at the sight of the skeletons draped over the aisles and hanging from the ceiling. “IT’S A WELCOME PARTY FOR US! A LITTLE LATE, HUMANS, BUT BETTER THAN NEVER!”

“This is very… strange,” Toriel said vaguely, when she went to get a cart and found that there was a picture of an unfeasibly pretty witch slapped on the cart return sign. “We’ve been coming here for months, why would they suddenly…”

The witch looked rather a lot like Undyne, and when Alphys pointed that out, Undyne visibly fought the urge to preen.

“I’M TELLING YOU,” Papyrus said, bobbing up and down slightly in excitement, “IT’S A ROYAL WELCOME FOR US!”

Frisk grabbed the edge of Sans’ jacket and tugged a little, and as soon as they had Sans’ attention, they finger-spelled **H-A-L-L-O-W-E-E-N**.

**What’s that?** Sans replied. Frisk screwed up their face, thinking.

**People dress up like… Monsters and go around trying to scare each other. And they eat a lot of candy,** they signed finally.

Sans considered this. 

**Dress up like us?** he asked, pointing to himself and then at the rest of the group, who were already moving off towards the lurid green-orange-black spectacle of the Halloween aisle as if hypnotized.

**Sort of** , Frisk signed. **But… scary.**

**So like Mettaton, you mean,** Sans signed, and Frisk huffed a guilty silent giggle.

**Okay,** Sans signed. **That’s really weird, but okay. You want to tell Papyrus, or should I?**

Frisk didn’t give any answer other than one slowly raised eyebrow.

**No, you’re right** , Sans signed. **It’s funnier this way.**

|

It took the rest of the week, and more decorations appearing in their neighbors’ windows (and in the postal office down the street, and in the bakery where Papyrus liked to stop for bagels) before Papyrus realised that there was probably something else going on.

So, he informed Frisk over Thursday night dinner, he spent several hours on the internet doing some research, and he made quite a discovery.

“YOU SEE, FRISK,” Papyrus said, in the indulgent voice an elementary school teacher might use while explaining something to a particularly adorable student, “UP HERE THEY HAVE SOMETHING CALLED A ‘HALLOWEEN’. IT IS A DAY WHEN THE HUMANS ALL COME TOGETHER TO WORSHIP SKELETONS. I AM SURPRISED THAT YOU, AS A HUMAN, DID NOT KNOW THIS.”

Sans made a noise into his tea that sounded like a snort. 

**Amazing,** Frisk signed. 

Sans made the snorting noise again.

|

Every time they went to Target that October, Papyrus snuck several plastic packages of useless Halloween junk into the cart. Whenever Toriel gave him that warning look and said _Papyrus…_ with the expression that usually meant Trouble (normally for Frisk), he just insisted that _NO, NO TORIEL, WE REALLY NEED -_ a pause to squint at the packaging - _GLOW-IN-THE-DARK NOVELTY SKELETON SUNGLASSES. THE LEGS OF THE GLASSES ARE REAL FEMURS! THEY’RE SURPRISINGLY ACCURATE, TORIEL, HOW COULD YOU SAY NO?_

Really, with all the junk they’d accumulated by the time the end of October rolled round, the party was inevitable. At the weekly extended family meeting Toriel insisted that they needed to at least get some use out of all the decorations by having other people over to the house to see them.

**Who will we invite?** Frisk signed to Toriel, who immediately produced a notebook and pen and began a list.

“Well, we’ll invite Napstablook and Mettaton, of course… Some of the other children from school – your friends, Frisk, and their parents…” she mumbled, scribbling.

“I WILL INVITE MY QUILTING CIRCLE,” Papyrus announced. Toriel wrote this down.

Then they all sat and looked at the notebook for a few minutes. Undyne scratched the back of her neck.

“Um… I’ll invite some of the guys, I guess? Will there be beer at this party?” Undyne asked.

“Yes,” Toriel said, quite definitely. She looked a little enthused at the idea. “We’ll dye it green and call it… Spooky brew.”

“Awesome,” Undyne said, leaning back in her chair. She nudged Alphys with an elbow.

“You can invite some of your nerd friends from the university,” she said. Alphys looked mildly panicked at the suggestion.

“I WILL INVITE MY GARDENING CLUB,” Papyrus said, before she could answer.

“University… nerds – oh, I mean, faculty!” Toriel muttered as she wrote. “And… gardening… club…”

**Hope you’re ready for this, kid,** Sans signed to Frisk. **Because I don’t know if I am.**

|

Sans and Papyrus spent the entire afternoon before the party “helping”, which really meant that they turned up on Toriel’s doorstep at lunchtime with a pumpkin under each arm.

“FRISK,” Papyrus said, “I HAVE LEARNED OF THE MOST AMAZING HUMAN CUSTOM.”

Frisk, having learned from bitter experience with Papyrus in the kitchen, put on an apron. Meanwhile, Toriel floated around in the background fretting quietly.

“Why do we only have skeleton decorations?” she muttered on her second pass through the kitchen, when Sans was busy chasing Frisk around with a handful of pumpkin goop, threatening to stuff it down the back of their shirt.

“THAT IS NOT TRUE, TORIEL,” Papyrus argued, pointing to the fridge door. “WE HAVE THE PICTURE OF THE ATTRACTIVE UNDYNE WITCH.”

“So one of our million decorations is not a skeleton,” Toriel sighed. “Wonderful.”

**What’s wrong with Toriel?** Frisk signed to Sans as soon as she was gone. 

Sans put his handful of goop and seeds back into the open pumpkin and signed, **beats me, kid. Maybe she’s worried about having a party with humans.**

**But Toriel is the best!** Frisk signed, so furiously and hastily that it made Sans laugh. **Everyone will love it! She shouldn’t worry!**

**Sure they will, kid,** he signed.

“WHAT ARE YOU TWO TALKING ABOUT?” Papyrus demanded, squinting at them through the glasses he wore for quilting and, apparently, pumpkin-carving. “YOU’RE GOING TOO FAST.”

**Sorry,** Frisk signed.

“WELL I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, FORGIVE YOU OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF MY SKELETON HEART,” Papyrus said magnanimously. “AND ALSO BECAUSE, FRISK, I NEED YOUR TINY BABY HUMAN HANDS TO HELP ME GET THE DETAIL RIGHT ON MY PUMPKIN FAMILY PORTRAIT. METTATON HAS A LOT OF EYELASHES.”

Sans disappeared while Frisk and Papyrus were hacking at the portrait pumpkin, and didn’t return until they’d moved on to a carved-pumpkin tribute to spaghetti. He had Toriel with him, and she looked considerably happier and less likely to spontaneously explode; her shoulders had come down from their previous position tensed in the vicinity of her ears.

“That is horrifying,” Sans said, indicating the completed portrait pumpkin. “We all look like we’ve melted. I love it.”

He started Toriel to work on the only untouched pumpkin, and to Frisk’s delight, she was laughing in no time, even when Papyrus and Sans started throwing the guts at each other and she got a huge splat on the shoulder.

“I’m going to make a pie,” she said happily, as she stabbed viciously through the tough side of the pumpkin with a serene expression. “I’m going to make _ten_ pies.”

|

When Frisk came downstairs a half hour before the party, all dressed in their bumblebee costume, the house seemed nearly transformed. The normal lights were all out, and in their place were lots of eerie green lanterns and flickering, battery-operated candles. There were skeleton stickers on the windows, plastic skeletons hanging from the ceiling, a giant plush skeleton sitting in one corner… Toriel, with her back turned to Frisk, was contemplating the beaded curtain that had been installed over the front doorway, which had little skulls as the beads.

“I… really should have paid better attention to what Papyrus was putting in the cart,” she muttered to herself. When Frisk took another step towards her they hit the squeaky stair, and Toriel turned and caught sight of them, giving a little joyous squeak. It was quite incongruous with her costume, which was unidentifiable to Frisk but involved a lot of fake blood everywhere.

“Oh, my little one, you look _so wonderful!_ ” she exclaimed, clutching her face. “Let me just go and get my camera.”

While she was away, there was a knock on the door. Frisk figured that if Toriel was the main host, they were co-host, and so they drew themselves up to their full height and answered. 

**Hi!** they signed, relieved that this time it was only more monsters, and not Undyne’s biker gang. **Everybody looks great!**

Alphys, decked out in full as the protagonist of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie, blushed but obligingly did a little twirl.

“WELL PARDNER, ARE YEH GUNNA LEDDA PARDNER IN, PARDNER?” Papyrus asked, in possibly the worst Texan accent Frisk had ever heard, and tilted his cowboy hat at a rakish angle over his eye.

**He’s been watching old movies all week,** Sans signed wearily from the back of the group.

“I’m seriously one step away from putting a curse on you to SHUT THE HELL UP, Papyrus,” Undyne growled, waving her black wand threateningly.

**Come in!** Frisk signed, hoping to head off a squabble, like a good co-host would.

**I love your…** Sans began to sign once he was in the hallway, then stopped, frowning. **I don’t know the word. Bee things?**

Frisk frowned, uncomprehending. Sans raised his hands to his forehead and stuck his index fingers straight up in the air, then crooked them. Oh, right!

**I don’t know the word either,** Frisk signed. They finger-spelled, **A-N-T-E-N-N-A-S?**

**I like this -** Sans stopped signing to give himself the little finger antennae again - **better as the sign**.

**Me too** , Frisk signed quickly, wiggling their antennae for emphasis. 

Next, much more deliberately and slowly so that hopefully the others could follow, Frisk signed, **what are you, Sans? I’m sorry, I don’t know.**

He’d turned up looking exactly like he always did, down to the blue jacket.

“Yeah, what _are_ you, Sans?” Undyne asked. “You never said, in the car.”

“What do you call an alligator that wears a vest?” Sans replied.

Undyne stared blankly at him.

“An investigator,” Sans said. There was a pause.

The pause extended.

“I’m a funny bone,” Sans explained, with absolutely no inflection. 

Frisk had a sudden concerned thought that Undyne was probably creative enough to seize the giant plush skeleton and use it as a projectile. They took a precautionary sideways step towards it.

“I –“ Undyne took a deep breath in through her nose, “actually, no, you know what? I’m going to steal a handful of Toriel’s pumpkin goop, and take it home with me, and _then_ I’m gonna break into your house at night and leave it inside one of your shoes. And you won’t know when I do it, or which pair it is. You’ll live the rest of your life in fear of surprise pumpkin goop. It’s what you deserve.”

|

After that everyone quickly filtered off to find Toriel or snaffle the best treats from the food table, but Sans hung around, trying to spirit Frisk away to the apple-bobbing station. Frisk stood firm.

**I’m C-O-H-O-S-T,** they protested. **I have to say hello to everyone!**

**Oh, I get it,** Sans signed, slumping his shoulders pathetically. **Too grown up now to play silly games with your uncle Sans…**

**Sans!** Frisk signed, hitting him on the elbow and rolling their eyes.

**Well, when you’re done come find me, kid,** he signed. **Toriel made batches of caramel and melted chocolate for those apples, so you know, that’s where I’ll be.**

Frisk almost relented at the thought of Toriel’s caramel, but door duty was too important.

**Save some for me,** they signed with great force of will, and Sans saluted, and slunk off.

|

Several groups arrived in quick succession then – first a cloud of little old ladies from Papyrus’ quilting circle and gardening club, who pinched Frisk’s cheeks delightedly and loaded them down with lemon drop candies. They didn’t seem to be dressed as anything, but at Frisk’s perplexed look, one of them explained, “oh, we’ve come as the ravages of time, dear.”

Papyrus must have overheard their entrance, as he appeared suddenly with a flourish in the doorway.

“HOWDY LADIES,” he said, leaning dramatically against the doorframe, and the women all exploded into a pleased commotion of clucking.

“There’s our handsome boy!” one of them said happily, and Papyrus gallantly stepped forward and offered his arms to escort them into the party.

So far, so good, Frisk thought. The next time they opened the door it was to Napstablook and Mettaton, the latter of whom heard the music playing in the lounge and, after an affectionate tweak of Frisk’s antennae, immediately rushed off. Napstablook, on the other hand, hovered in the hallway long enough for Frisk to see that their costume seemed just to consist of a bigger, fancier hat than usual.

Frisk made the sign for a question and pointed at the hat.

“oh, yeah …i’m like… existential despair?” Napstablook said. “or… maybe… you know that feeling you get when you see someone you used to love but haven’t seen in… so long, and you’ve pined away for them for years and then you find that actually…. they’re totally not as great as you thought and you’ve wasted all your time… and it’s ahhhh, it’s so painful… that feeling…”

**I like it** , Frisk signed, which seemed like the easiest option. Napstablook didn’t quite smile, but looked as happy as they ever did, and drifted off into the party.

Frisk’s three best friends from school were next, with their parents. They had decided on co-ordinated costumes, or at least an attempt at them, so Sally was a ladybug, Danny was a fruit fly (pair of wings in back, and a Carmen Miranda-esque fruit hat), and Georgie, whose mom had really missed the memo, was an octopus.

After that came Alphys’ university colleagues (all dressed as… scientists, in their usual lab coats) and the guys from Undyne’s biker gang (which Undyne mysteriously qualified to be a member of despite her utter lack of a motorcycle), who were dressed as “badasses”, apparently. One of them seemed to have been in so many fights he only had four teeth left, so Frisk just nodded hastily and let them all in.

Several members of the Royal Guard followed, just wearing their armor, since everyone had mutually agreed to give up on attempting to explain Halloween costumes to the dogs. They were easy to deal with too, just a headscritch for the dogs and then a hello to 01 and 02.

And after _that_ , Frisk figured that anyone else could just ring the doorbell and wait – now came the next stage of party hosting: the mingle.

|

A quick sweep of the main room saw Papyrus holding court with his swarm of adoring ladies in one corner, Sans helping two of Frisk’s friends at the apple-bobbing station, Undyne and Alphys surrounded by bikers and scientists, and Mettaton dancing raucously with one of Undyne’s bikers, who looked half blindsided and half infatuated. Everything looked fine – or, well, nearly fine.

Frisk’s schoolfriends knew, nominally, that Frisk’s family were all monsters. All three had met Toriel more than once, and Toriel had met their parents and foster parents, and so really Frisk hadn’t been worried at all about how any of them would react at the party.

…although really, when Frisk considered it, Toriel was probably the most gentle introduction to monsters that it was possible to have, and Mettaton, for example, was… Not, and that might explain why Sally’s mom was staring at the rest of the lounge with wide eyes, and clutching her wine glass like a shield. Sally herself had developed an instant crush on Undyne and walked straight over to her to ask about her costume, blushing hard enough to start a fire, so Mrs Fredrickson had found herself abandoned.

This was clearly a job for Toriel.

**I think we should go talk to M-R-S F-R-E-D-R-C-K-S-N** , Frisk signed urgently, tapping her on the arm and disrupting her from her passionate baking discussion with one of Papyrus’ ladies. (Papyrus was probably the intermediate-level monster experience if Toriel was entry-level, Frisk figured, and that explained why this barley-sugar-smelling little old lady seemed completely unfazed by everything).

“Why – oh, I see,” Toriel said, nodding decisively. “Yes, I think we’d better. Please excuse me, Violet.”

Sally’s mom immediately relaxed at the sight of Toriel approaching her, even with the large quantity of “blood” down her front, and Frisk applauded themselves on a job well-done as co-host when she lowered her wineglass shield. Frisk waved cheerily and hopefully comfortingly from Toriel’s side.

“I just love what you’ve done in here, Toriel,” Sally’s mom said. “You know, I was just wondering, are y’all… Mexican? It’s very Day of the Dead, with all of the skeletons… I mean, it’s great! I think it’s important to appreciate other cultures and everything, I always try to teach my girls -”

Okay, time to leave Toriel to sort out _that_ mess. 

Frisk diverted across the room to the food table to snag a plate of appetisers, intending to go round with them as a cover for checking on everyone, but only succeeded in running into Mettaton on a drinks break from dancing.

“Darling,” he greeted them, “what a fabulous party!” 

Frisk had initially guessed that Mettaton had come as himself, but when Frisk made the sign for a question and waved a hand in Mettaton’s vague direction, he informed Frisk that actually, he had come as product placement.

“I’m Kiss-Me-Quick Mettaton,” he explained, striking a pose. “In stores in time for Christmas, or the religious holiday of your choosing! Tutu and platform shoes sold separately. Here, let me give you a demo…”

“NO,” someone objected loudly, but they weren’t fast enough to prevent Mettaton bending himself almost in half and pressing a big, sparkling, smacking kiss to Frisk’s cheek.

“Isn’t it genius, darling?” he asked, straightening up and winking. “We’ve developed this lipstick that doesn’t lose any of its shine or sparkle no matter how many kisses I give out… It’s so useful to keep track of all the hearts I’ve broken! Speaking of, I’ve got a certain one in my sights that I must get back to… Toodle-oo, sweetheart!”

When Toriel – who must have been the distant objector – reached Frisk, instead of checking to make sure they hadn’t been traumatised, she burst out laughing at the sparkly red lip-print on their cheek and whipped out the camera again.

“Frisk is even cuter now,” Alphys sighed, turning from her conversation with one of her scientist friends to watch while Toriel’s flash went off. “How is that possible? Oh, Toriel, they’re killing me! So cute!”

Toriel just made an agonized noise in agreement.

|

Almost two hours after the party had begun, and after Frisk had made a covert reconnaissance round with the mini hotdogs, the party wasn’t just going okay, it was going _great_. Everyone had someone to talk to, or dance with if they wanted (another of Undyne’s bikers had even tempted a scientist to cut loose), there was plenty of food, nobody was standing terrified in a corner and Toriel didn’t even seem stressed out at all… 

Job well done for a co-host, Frisk thought. So this time, when Sans held up two apples and called _Frisk!_ across the room, they signed **coming!** , and went.

“We’re having a contest,” Sans explained when Frisk made it over to him, indicating Georgie, Danny, Undyne, three scientists, four old ladies, Papyrus and Napstablook (Frisk wasn’t sure how that exactly… was going to work, but decided they were better off not asking). “And I _bet_ I can get more than you, kid.”

**You’re on,** Frisk signed.


End file.
